


Of Plastic Spoons, Prick Doctors, and Purgatory

by dodecahedrons



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Afterlife, Anger Management, Debt, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Punishment, Purgatory, Rehabilitation, Second Chances, Secret Societies, Suicide, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-19 02:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8185808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dodecahedrons/pseuds/dodecahedrons
Summary: Eren Jaeger is the most recent in a string of unfortunate suicides in even more unfortunate adolescents. What he expected upon death was, well, nothingness. What he got instead was a white room and a doctor who knew way too much about him.Now, he's expected to miraculously get better within an unspecified time span, or else something seemingly too bad to say will happen to him. The only things he has to survive on are his wit, the cute blonde down the hall, and his growing collection of Domino sugar packets from the cafeteria that he hides in his dresser. Oh, and the underground group of teenagers learning to fake it till they're appearing to make it so they can get the hell out of purgatory as fast as they possibly can.





	1. White

He awoke in a bright room. That's the first and most obvious thing about it, actually. How bright it was. The walls were whiter than anything he'd seen before, and after taking a quick glance down, his sheets and even his clothing were almost a similar white. It was nearly blinding, and it would have been physically blinding had the lights in the room not been appropriately dimmed. Though everything seemed an eggshell in the dusk-like lighting, it was clear as day that the room was indeed a pure white.

He scooted himself upward in bed, propping the pillow his head had just been on behind him habitually. There was no other furniture in the room besides the bed he was currently on. The door was a stark white, almost blending into the wall. To his sleepy eyes, it initially _had_ looked like the wall. He blinked several times, balling his fists and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before trying to focus harder on the door to actually make sure it was a door, when he heard footsteps in the hallway. Though there was no window next to the door like a usual hospital - he had surmised that that's the only place he could be right then - he could tell that the footsteps were headed for him.

Almost like they could tell he had just woken up.

As he'd predicted, the door opened. There was no creak or groan of tired hinges, just the soft sound of the door's kinetic energy causing it to hit a (probably white) rubber stopper on the wall after it was let go. A doctor in a (predictably) white coat walked in, his blond hair a welcome contrast of color in the rather repetitive room. He glanced down at his (obviously) white clipboard with (obvioiusly) white paper clipped onto it. Before the doctor had a chance to speak, the boy in the bed spoke up.

"Let me guess, the ink is white too?"

The doctor gave a chuckle. This wasn't the response the boy had been expecting to elicit from the seemingly professional man in the room. Without looking up at him, the doctor opened his mouth to respond. "Guess you kept your keen eye beyond the grave, huh Jaeger?"

 _Beyond the grave?_ He wasn't so sure this was a hospital anymore. Why would he be "beyond the grave" as this doctor claims? If the afterlife did exist, it most definitely wouldn't be a pure white room and bed, right? The boy racked his brain to try to figure out why the actual hell he would be beyond the grave. He was so busy trying to figure this actual conundrum out that he hadn't heard the doctor's (admittedly soft) footsteps come closer to him. He only realized the man was standing right next to him when his hand was on his neck.

Instinctively, the boy reached his arm up and whacked the doctor off of him. "The hell you think you're doing?" he said in a rather raised voice, defenses immediately heightening as his inner voice told him the man was danger. The doctor dropped his clipboard as he raised his hands to be level with his head, a stunned look on his face.

"Listen, Mr. Jaeger-"

"Don't call me that you fu-"

"E-Eren, please let m-"

"Don't call me _anything_! I don't want formalities or niceities, I want to know why the fuck you think it's alright to tell me I'm beyond the grave. Where's your supervisor at? That's a sick thing to say to someone in the hospital, you absolute douchenozzle!"

The doctor's shocked look softened into that of almost sympathy. He bent down to pick up his clipboard, wordlessly adjusting the papers back into the clip neatly before flipping through a few pages. After a moment, he cleared his throat and began reading what seemed to be something out of a newspaper. Was it... _no_. It couldn't be.

"Eren Jaeger, a meager 15 years old as of last month, was found dead in the dorm rooms of Shiganshina's School for Troubled Youth. His peers described him as many things - violent, easily set off, extremely vocal - but never in their life would they have considered him depressed. The youth was-"

"And now you've written a fake fucking obituary? Jesus, what do you people do around here? Because it sure as hell isn't saving lives. You're making me wish I was depressed so I could find it in me to fucking drink whatever cleaning supply you use to keep this room ridicuously white." the boy - known as Eren now - interrputed. The doctor paused for this interruption, almost as if he had been expecting it, and gave the boy a few moments before he cleared his throat once again and continued, flipping the page when necessary.

"The youth was found in his dorm room by his roommate, who wishes to remain unnamed. He found him bloody and smelling awful. Autopsy reports state that he had ingested several pints of bleach and similar cleaning products alongside alcoholic beverages and pills. One doctor tasked with this autopsy is reported as saying it was 'the most overkill he'd seen in a dead teenager in a while'."

By this point, Eren was quiet, looking at the doctor with a look of fury in his eyes. The rest of his face resembled anything but fury, however, clearly showing a mix confusion and terror. The doctor took the sudden hitch in Eren's breathing as a sign to stop.

"Why. Why the _fuck_ do you think this is okay?" Eren managed through the beginnings of a crying fit, his voice cracking in various parts of his question as he balled his fist. "Why the fuck do you think it's okay to bullshit a suicide story to me? I would never fucking do that-!"

With that, he tried to swing at the doctor, screaming as tears began to roll down reddened cheeks. Before his fist could make it very far, he was jolted back. The sound of plasticized chains could be heard rattling muffledly beneath Eren's yelp of shock and pain as he fell back onto his pillow. He looked toward his right fist, still in a ball and ready to attack, and realized.

"You chained me to the bed? Why the fuck? Why didn't you chain my left hand? You don't think I can get out of this? You think I'm a fucking wuss? You obviously did enough creepy homework on me to know I'm not a nice kid. I could fucking destroy a person, let alone this piece of shit chain."

The doctor tsked, walking forward and taking Eren's balled fist into both of his hands, pushing down Eren's long (white) sleeve to reveal a cushioned restraint clasped around his wrist.

"Eren, you're a violent risk right now. We can't have you attacking the others and risking their chances to have a happy life. Can you listen to me for a second?"

"Why the fuck should I?" Eren asked through tears. His face was twisted into that of fury and helplessness, and the redness in his cheeks was spreading. He looked like a pissed off toddler rather than a restrained teenager.

"If you don't, then I don't suppose you'd mind staying in this sickeningly white room until you're willing to cooperate, hm?" the doctor hummed, looking Eren dead in the eyes. In response, Eren growled, fighting the urge to lung at the doctor again, knowing it would be to no avail. After a moment, he relaxed, not even knowing he was completely tense until just then.

"Whatever."

"Good, glad you understand," the doctor nodded. He bent down and pulled a rolling stool out from underneath the bed, and Eren almost laughed when he noticed it was white. It was so fucking surreal - everything was white. Why... why was everything white? The doctor noticed the intrigue and amusement in Eren's eyes, but didn't bother addressing it. "Let's get straight to the point, Mr. Jaeger. You're dead. You've been dead for a week now. There was no chance of reviving you. You heard the report - you practically broke every safety rule from a 3rd grade health class."

"Then how am I here?" Eren asked, voice cracking. He had stopped crying, but his voice had the beginnings of rawness from the yelling and sobbing he'd just went through. "How the fuck am I talking to you if I'm dead?"

"Because, Mr. Jaeger," the doctor began, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a mirror. He held it up to where Eren would definitely be able to see himself in it. Eren gasped at his reflection, reaching his unrestrained hand up to where the doctor had been touching earlier - a jagged collection of shallow scars and one large gash of a scar on his neck. "You're being given one more chance at life."

"One more chance...?" Eren whispered almost involuntarily, caught in a semi-trance at the sight of the fatal scars on his neck. He really was dead. And it matched up with what the apparently real obituary had said. _'Found him bloody and smelling awful'_...

"This isn't Heaven, so we're clear," the doctor stated, taking the mirror away before the boy became too fixated on his scars. "Think of us more like... a purgatory for kids who maybe weren't dealt the best hand. Make it through and get better? You get a second chance at life! Isn't that great?"

Eren looked unamused. "And if I don't get better?"

The doctor stood from his stool. Eren managed to catch a glimpse of the nametag hooked to a laniard stuffed into his pocket that had been previously hidden by the long white coat - _Doctor E. Smith_. "You don't want to find out."

With no other statements, Eren was left alone with his thoughts again as Doctor Smith made his way out of the room, closing the door with a gentle click. He returned his gaze to the wall across from him, the first thing he'd seen when he'd woken up becoming less amusing and more of a reality check.

He was fucking dead. And now he was stuck here, in some hell for mentally damaged kids, against his will.


	2. Courtyard

Footsteps echoed against the pristine linolium tile as Eren tread tentatively toward his room's door. He rubbed at the sleep in his eyes, letting out a long yawn as he wrapped his fingers around the doorknob.

It had been a few days since he'd woken up in this white room. He still didn't entirely buy Doctor Smith's story, but what else did he have to go on? It's not like he would answer any further questions during his meeting with Eren. He even tried his best to manipulate Smith into answering cryptic questions about escape. His personal favorite attempt was when he asked where the fire exits were.

Spoiler alert: apparently fires that require evacuation aren't "possible" in purgatory. Eren had half the mind to test this, but the threat of something unknown but definitely not good happening to him loomed over him just enough to edge the thoughts away from becoming an impulse.

He twisted the doorknob and stepped into the cold hallway, his bare feet sticking to the tile of the similarly colored hallway. He shut the door with a soft click behind him, twisting the knob twice to make sure it wasn't locked and he could retreat if need be.

Today was the first day he was allowed to go into the shared area of the facility - what Doctor Smith called the "rec center". Apparently, it wasn't half bad. He recalled Smith telling him it was practically like he wasn't in purgatory. He thought back on their conversation about this as he pulled his shirt against himself, beginning to slowly walk down the corridor leading out of the uncannily sterile whiteness of the halls he currently inhabited.

>    
>  _"Give it enough time, and you might just find yourself forgetting you're in purgatory," Doctor Smith said with a chuckle, looking at Eren over the reading glasses daintily placed on his face. He crossed his legs, cracking his knuckles and leaning back in his chair. Eren remained rigid in his chair across from the doctor._
> 
> _"I seriously doubt that. I'll have to come back to the rooms every night, won't I?" he inquired. "Not really that immersive, if you ask me."_
> 
> _"Ah, but that's where you're wrong," the man hummed, a smile toying with the edges of his lips. "Once we know you'll do fine in population, we let you move into a different room. A... studio apartment of your own, if you will. Free of charge, too!"_
> 
> _"Oh, goodie," Eren mumbled, crossing his arms and allowing his rigidity to lessen a bit as he exhaled audibly._

  
He exhaled along with his memory self, closing his eyes as he walked until he was abruptly stopped by something.

The door. He had just walked into the fucking door.

He quickly stumbled back, looking the door up and down to see if there was any window in it to let whoever happened to be on the other side of that door see what had just happened. To his pleasure, the door was completely solid. He reached out, his shirt falling slightly due to it being stretched out from his pulling, and twisted the knob.

No sooner did the door open than did he suddenly become bombarded with the sound of dozens of conversations going on. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the shift of light, and his hand instinctively came up to shield his eyes from the actual natural light in the area. This wasn't a room, he came to discover, it was a courtyard.

He took a step, his bare feet making a soft noise against the stone infront of the door as he did so. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, most conversation in the room deadenned. Some turned to look at him, and he self conciously pulled his shirt against himself again. After a few moments of this staring-and-awkward-response fiasco, mumbling could be heard amongst those close enough to the door Eren came out of. He couldn't quite catch anything completely solid, but he could get they were whispering amongst themselves about a "newcomer".

He was about to retreat back into the hallway, unsure if he was ready to face a bunch of his new peers who have obviously been here much longer than him, when he felt a hand on his forearm closest to the wall next to him. He jumped back from the touch, gripping onto his shirt tighter when he turned his head to see who'd touched him.

He had blonde hair. That was the first thing Eren noted about him. The blonde was very similar to that of Doctor Smith's, but this kid wore it in a style that says "I probably don't know what scissors are". The boy was about half a head shorter than him, and ontop of that he was a little thinner than him. This boy was practically a walking stick. Or a mop, if you take into account his hair.

"You don't want to go back. Trust me."

Alright, this shit was getting fucked. How did everyone around here seem to know what he was thinking or doing? First, Smith knew he had woken up almost immediately, now this kid knew he wanted to go back to his room? He was about to confront this when the boy put a finger to his lips and smiled, moving his hand off of Eren's forearm and taking a step back.

"I'm Armin Arlert. I've been here for about 4 weeks now," he introduced, holding his hand out. Eren looked at his hand, and then up at him. He repeated this twice before extending a shakey hand, clasping it around the offered hand. The boy - Armin - shook his hand firmly before dropping it to his side. "You seem nervous."

"I just... didn't expect this, y'know?" Eren laughed, glancing around at the plants and the benches and the fucking _sky_. He almost forgot nature could be this beautiful. Being cooped up in an endlessly white building does that to you. Armin chuckled at Eren's apparent awe, leaning against the wall adjacent to the door that the brunette had just come out of.

"None of us do. Wait until you see the fountain in the other block, you'll probably be mesmerized for a few," he commented, a grin plastered on his face.

There was a moment of silence between the two, with Eren looking around to take in his surroundings and Armin watching him with great amusement. After a moment, Eren began to walk, his grip on his shirt loosening just a touch. Armin stalked beind him, almost as if to make sure he didn't hurt himself. It looked kind of pathetic, honestly. A tall brunette with a small blond following him like a puppy. It almost seemed as if Armin were the newbie and Eren were his trusty guard.

Eren stopped when he came to a rock not meant for paving purposes, and sat down on it. Armin opted to remain standing. He crossed his arms against his chest, taking in Eren in his entirety.

The silence between the two was finally broken when Armin spoke up.

"They'll tear you up if you stay in those clothes for too long, you know."

Eren looked down at his outfit. It was the white shirt and pants he'd been wearing when he woke up here. Upon looking up, he noitced everyone else was avoiding the color white as much as possible. Those who had any white on their clothes seemed to be separated from those avoiding the color as much as possible.

Weird.

"I have an extra outfit, if you want it?" Armin offered. "My room isn't too far from here. You can't leave the court for the first few days, but I could run and get them for you real quick. Might help you blend in better. Get more privileges faster."

"Why can't I go beyond the court?" Eren asked, looking up as the blond shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "It seems kind of... counterproductive. To keep me away from everyone if they want me to merge."

"It's a procaution," he explained, crouching down as to not tower over the newbie. "You're fresh, you're still coming to terms with your suicide. Most of us are, too. Like I said, I've been here four weeks."

"What does suicide have to do with keeping us separated?"

"Think of it like this..." Armin mumbled looking around almost as if he were searching for something. After a moment, he motioned Eren toward the patch of gravel and dirt behind the rock he was perched on. Eren merely turned himself around on the rock, while Armin walked toward his find. He grabbed a stick off of a nearby shrub with a soft snap, and knelt down in the dirt. "You died not too long ago. This is you."

He made a circle in the dirt with the stick, pointing at the circle and looking up to make sure Eren was paying attention. Once he confirmed he was, he continued.

"This box around you is the White. You wake up there if you've been chosen for a second chance. After you've had time to talk to the doctors, you're allowed in the courtyard."

He draws an arrow from the box he'd drawn around Eren, drawing a bigger box for the arrow to point toward.

"This is where we are now. Beyond the courtyard is a small sort of... city, I suppose? But you can only join that population once the doctors have cleared you as stable enough to rejoin a type of society. It's sort of a..." Armin trailed off, the word he was looking for slipping his mind. Eren remained silent, not sure how to help him. After a moment, the blond shook it off, shaking his head for effort. "I'm sure you get it. It's like... when prisoners are getting out of prison?"

"Rehabilitation," Eren mumbled, not liking the simile of this facility to a prison. A soft frown formed on his face, almost as if he was remembering something not exactly great but not horrible either. Armin sputtered, shaking his hands infront of Eren's face. Not that it mattered. Eren was staring off to the side.

"Y-Yeah! Hey, sorry if i mentioned something that bothered you! Uh..." he stammered, trying to figure out how to help the brunette he'd accidentally upset. "I can go get you those clothes! Would you want that?" Eren shrugged in response. Armin skittishly stood to his feet, posture much more rigid than it was before. "I'll be back! P-Please stay there. I mean-- you don't have to if you don't want to! I can find you! Just, ah-" he stepped backwards. "Please don't leave yet."

With that, Armin turned on his heel and practically speedwalked to a doorway on the opposite end of the courtyard, leaving Eren to his thoughts.

The word 'rehabilitation' echoed in his mind. They had to rehabilitate the teenagers they chose for whatever this was. Why was this a purgatory? If this were some sort of afterlife, couldn't the hand of God or whatever diety headed this just reach down and cure them all of their apparently lingering illnesses? Why did it have to be so complex and, for lack of better words, segregated. He turned his gaze from nothingness to the population of kids to his right. He gripped at his shirt once again, watching them from his perch on the rock.

Maybe he'd actually try to fit in. If what that blond boy said was accurate, he'd have to prove to Doctor Smith or whatever higherup he had that he was okay enough to be anywhere else besides that goddamn white labyrinth.

Eren blinked, remembering that Armin had referred to his current dwelling as "The White". Was that actually the name for it? Not that it wasn't fitting...

He continued to stare off, almost zoning out now, as his mind went into overdrive.

He had to get to the bottom of what this place was and learn how to play the system. He needed to get into the "rehabilitaton" area. He needed to have some sort of freedom.

He had to get Smith to let him out of The White.


	3. Transfer

"So. You've been here for a week now, yes?"

"I think so. You fucks don't let me keep a calendar in my room, though, so I can't be too sure."

"Eren. We've talked about the language."

"Go to hell."

"Sorry, can't. I'm permanently stationed here in purgatory to watch over... special cases such as yours."

This is how meetings between Eren and Doctor Smith usually went, and today was no different. Eren leaned forward in his chair, locking eyes with the blond doctor infront of him. According to Armin, the week marker of being in The White was the most important. If he fucked this up, he wouldn't be given another chance to start relocating for at _least_ another week. He couldn't seem like he was trying too hard, though, or the doctor would catch on he was faking.

Eren briefly wondered how the first person to get here figured this out. Actually... how _did_ the first person to get here fare?

The doctor cleared his throat and pulled a file from under the desk - probably from his lap. Eren glanced at the file with confused eyes. It had no name, but he automatically assumed it was his given the one-on-one scenario. Then again, he was unsure if this place had doctor/patient confidentiality, so there really was no say in what could be in the folder. Eren watched tentatively as Doctor Smith opened the file.

"You've begun to make friends, I see. A pretty quick friendship has formed between you and..." he squinted, leaning forward just slightly and adjusting his glasses. "...A certain Armin? Is that correct?"

"Yes. It is."

"And I assume that's the person you got those clothes from?"

Eren glanced down at his outfit - a simple red polo shirt and some khaki pants. They weren't anything spectacular, but they were inconspicuous enough that he wouldn't get flagged for them in The White.

Or, that's what Armin told him a few days ago when he slipped the clothes to him before curfew.

"Yeah. He told me it'd help me fit in more - not make me look like I just arrived, you know?"

Doctor Smith gave Eren an unsure look, but quickly returned his gaze to the file. He began to make notes in unmarked places on the front page of the folder. "And has that helped your case?"

Eren hesitated to respond, but did against his better judgment. "W-Well, you see, they all still kind of know I'm new, so they think I won't be as much fun to hang out with, I guess. Armin's tried to advocate for me, though! I think I could get some friends before too much longer. Maybe if I had more courtyard time...?"

Erwin stopped writing after a moment of silence, simply placing a period at the end of what appeared to be a sentence and setting the pen over the paper. "More courtyard time, hmm? You do realize that there's a whole society beyond the court, correct?"

"Really?" Eren hummed, playing dumb. "I guess that'd make sense. I don't really see anyone else in these halls. Or maybe the white's finally gotten to me and I've gone partially blind."

"Eren."

"Sorry, doctor."

Erwin stood, closing the file and picking it up in one swift motion. He turned to face a shelf of similar files beind him, but turned for a moment to look back at Eren. "Go to the courtyard. I'll have a doctor come out to escort you to your new living arrangements as soon as I speak to him about your case."

Eren's eyes lit up for the first time in this week. He was actually getting out of the White! He practically couldn't believe it. Was it really going to be this easy to-

"But."

Oh.

"But what, sir?" Eren blinked.

"If you start to become a threat to the emotional stability of other..." he paused, apparently trying to think of his wording for a moment before continuing, " _patients_ , you'll be brought back to your room here in our main halls. We're trusting you to be good beyond the courtyard. You can still visit the yard, of course, but we find you might like the non-shared yard much more."

Eren caught most of what Smith had said, but was too busy musing over the whole _threat to the emotional stability of other patients_ deal. He again began to wonder why they didn't just heal them if they were apparently in some sort of supernatural purgatorial afterlife scenario. He didn't dare question it, however, because he really really wanted out of the White.

So instead, he stood and nodded, mumbling a soft thanks before scurrying out of the room, his bare feet tapping on the tile as he ran.

 

* * *

 

"Eren!" a familiar voice called. The brunette turned on the rock he was sitting on to see Armin running up to him. He smiled in the blond's direction, and gave a quiet laugh when he stopped infront of him to catch his breath before speaking. "Eren! How'd it go?"

"It went good, I think?" he responded, shrugging his shoulders and looking back to the spot on the ground he'd been staring at. "The doctor told me to wait in the yard until another doctor came to take me to my new room or whatever."

Armin's blue eyes practically sparkled at this statement. "Eren! You're being put into the main population! Oh, gosh this is so exciting. You'll be able to meet so many more interesting people than if you just stayed..." he grimaced in the direction toward the kids sitting on the leftmost side of the yard, "... _here_."

Eren thought back to what the doctor had told him. That there was another courtyard that he'd thought he'd like much better than this one. Was that the same courtyard Armin had mentioned a few days prior, when they'd first met? What could be so much better about that courtyard...?

"But! Do you know what hall you'll be in? There's a ton, so I only know a few of them, but you'll probably be put closer to where everyone else lives!"

"No I... I didn't know we got assigned rooms?" Eren blinked. "He just told me to wait for a doctor and told me about the courtyard you'd mentioned. He said I'd like it better..."

"Oh!" Armin clasped his own hands together. "You might be close to the courtyard! The other courtyard, that is. The one that isn't as dead as this one."

"You mentioned that courtyard when we met," he responded, arching an eyebrow. "What's so special about it?"

"So much! Oh, Eren! It has a lake! And a playground with equipment actually made for us! It's every purgitorial kid's dream to get there. Hell, living next to it is a luxury. If you get a courtyard-side apartment, I'm gonna be so jealous! You'll _have_ to let me sleep over."

Eren gave an awkward chuckle. Armin was pretty damn excited about this courtyard. But, he hadn't mentioned any of that a few days ago...

"How do you know if it has a fountain? You act like you haven't been there..."

Armin stared at Eren for a moment, confusion clearly written on his face. Then, it seemed like everything hit him at once, and he started laughing. The brunette watched him fall to his butt in the dirt near the rock, still laughing. He could practically feel the curious eyes of several kids to his right, but he was more concerned with why Armin found his question so funny. So, he spoke up.

"Armin, what the hell?"

"Sorry, sorry," Armin chuckled, wiping a forming tear from his eye with his index finger. "It's just that... Eren, the 'block' isn't the other courtyard. It's a little gathering yard in the middle of the city. You have to have pretty high qualifications with the doctors to get to the other courtyard. That's why I called it the block."

"You made it sound so much better than here, though!" Eren defended. Had the blond gotten his hopes up for nothing...? His fists instinctively balled.

"It is! I swear it! You dont have all these..." he scooted closer to Eren to whisper, "Dead-looking kids hanging around. We're all doctor certified to live amongst ourselves! All of us hang out. We aren't segregated by clothes! We don't have to deal with that godawful color if we don't want to!"

"What makes that fountain so great?" Eren mumbled, his fists relaxing a bit. The kid seemed genuinely happy with the privileges that block brought...

"It's calming. Especially, I'd think, for someone like you," he mused. He reached out to grab Eren's wrist, showing him his hands. "I saw you get angry. I know that the block doesn't sound as great as the other courtyard, but I promise, you'll get used to working toward it. The block has a fountain and some swings. It's nothing great, but it's ridiculously therapudic. And, hey, if you still think it's shit, just remember that the block is there so you dont return to the White."

Eren looked at his semi-balled fist and sighed, closing his eyes and hanging his head. "You're right. Sorry, I..."

"It's okay. You can't help the instincts you bring over from your life. You have every right to be angry. Just make sure the doctors don't see," Armin said soothingly, his calm eyes looking over Eren's ashamed form.

Just then, the loud door to the White was heard shutting, and the sound of heavy footsteps crunching against the grass could be heard. Armin looked passed Eren, and in turn, Eren looked behind himself to see a man in a white coat walking toward him. He had a clipboard in his hand - surprisingly, it wasn't white. His hair was black, and his eyes were dark.

"That's the doctor," Armin whispered.

"Really?" Eren blinked, shifting his eyes to attempt to see Armin out of his peripheral. Just as he did this, the footsteps came closer and then stopped altogether. The man in the white coat cleared his voice, and Eren turned back to see him pull a pen on a cord from his belt.

"Eren Jaeger?" the man asked, voice monotone and almost bored. He almost seemed as if he were uninterested with his current job, but defeated because hey, we're in purgatory! Not like you can just apply at the McDonalds down the road. Eren held back an amused grin, afraid to screw up his chance to finally move into the population right when it was being handed to him. Instead, he decided to stand and turn to fully face the man.

"That's me," he confirmed, brushing any dust that had settled on him from Armin's dramatic cry-fall minutes before to appear more professional to the doctor. "Can I ask your name, or-"

"Doctor Ackerman. Now, if you'd please, I need you to follow me."

With no more exchanged words, Doctor Ackerman walked passed Eren and gave a look that Eren couldn't quite see to Armin. The doctor didn't wait up, so Eren hurriedly said goodbye to his friend and scurried after the man, hoping that what he saw through the next door would be much better than what he'd been living in for the past week.

On top of that, he got his hopes together that maybe he'd live near that longed for courtyard Armin had spoken of today.


	4. Special

The door to a musty room swung open, followed by the doctor escorting Eren backing up from the entrance. "Here it is," he muttered, pulling his shirt collar up to cover the lower half of his face. "It's not great, but you have some time to fix it up."

"Some time?" Eren blinked, reaching his hand around the door frame into the dark room to feel for a light switch. He couldn't find anything, and he was really hoping he could get a light source before getting too far into the room. Who knows what resided in there. For this being an otherworldly place, they sure didn't care about using their afterlife magic for upkeep...

"You'll eventually get out," Doctor Ackerman responded, coughing a little into his shirt. "They all do. And their rooms get left behind however they left it."

"Who lived here before me then?" the brunette mumbled, not even facing the doctor as he poked his head around the corner of the doorframe now, still searching for a switch. Ackerman sighed, and Eren could have sworn he heard a deep breath followed by nothing as the man pushed passed him and walked into the depths of the room. He heard the tug of a string attached to a lightbulb before the room flickered into view.

White.

Not perfect white, it was definitely dirty. This room was more of a downgrade than he'd bargained for.

"Motherfucker..." Ackerman whispered under his breath, looking around the room in absolute disgust. After a moment, though, he seemed to remember he was in the presence of a patient. He turned his attention to the boy standing in the doorway. "What? Aren't you gonna come in?"

"It's... kind of messy. Seriously. Who the hell lived here before me? Why would they leave this mess?"

"This room is reserved for..." the doctor averted his eyes from being remotely near Eren's direct eye contact, "... _special_ cases. Kids who... need more discipline... Kids who-"

"Drink bleach?" Eren deadpanned.

"Yes. Well, no. But, that does lead me to another tricky part of this..."

Eren groaned, throwing his head back in frustration as the doctor pulled a note out of his pocket, pulling his shirt further over his face to seemingly avoid infection from the unsavory state of the room. He unfolded the note he'd retrieved and cleared his throat, beginning to read just like Doctor Smith had the first day he woke up.

"Eren Jaeger is not permitted to clean his room on his own, as he killed himself with cleaning supplies among other things. Rather, he's required to work to pay off labor-"

"Pay off labor? What kind of place is this?" Eren responded, confusion and anger in his voice. "I didn't ask to be here, you know! Why do I have to go through all of this?"

"Hey, brat. Listen. I didn't finish. You don't have to, unless you like sleeping with black mold. And, you'd best get to work, unless you think you'll find someone on such short notice to bum a couch off of," the doctor practically hissed, hurriedly walking toward the exit. It seemed as if the room was getting to him more than Eren's adamancy.

"Where am I supposed to work?" Eren demanded.

"Cafeteria. A store. I don't know. Go around and see what poor assholes need work around here," he muttered in response, practically booking it down the hall. Before Eren could respond in confusion and anger once more, the man was out of earshot, and Eren was left to stare into the apparently toxic living quarters he'd been given.

And, that he did. Until his impulsiveness dictated he either get as far away from the punishment he'd been given, or destroy the door and possibly get sent back to the White.

He much preferred the former, so he took off with no motive on where to go besides his current subconscious destination of "anywhere but here".

 

* * *

 

He'd been running for maybe ten minutes across the surprisingly expansive inner population of this hell masked as a rehab for fucked teenagers when he came across what he could only assume was a soup kitchen. He pushed his way inside and was greeted by a familiar face and an unfamiliar face. Immediately, the familiar one jumped up and ran to Eren.

"Oh! You found me? I didn't know you knew about this place already!" Armin exclaimed, joy in his eyes. "It's only been an hour. Did you get out of lectures...?"

"I'm a special case, Armin, I can get out of anything," Eren muttered, blocking out any and all thoughts of the room he'd been given. Instead, he looked passed Armin to see the back of someone sitting at the table the blond had just run from. "Who's that?"

"Oh! That's Mikasa. She's the manager of the cafeteria here. I'm close with her, and I get my food super cheap. Some of it's free!" Armin chirped.

"You seem way too happy to be here," the brunette observed.

"You get used to being here," the blond simply shrugged. After a moment of prolonged eye contact between the two, Armin shifted his gaze to an empty wall before turning around, subtly implying that Eren should follow. When he didn't, Armin turned once more to face Eren. "Aren't you coming?"

"I... don't know if I should," Eren tried to refuse, but right as he started to back up, Armin lunged forward and caught his arm. The brunette wanted to throw him off of him, and anger boiled in him so badly he could feel it in his chest, but he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to quell his upcoming outburst.

Not yet. It wasn't worth it yet.

"Come on! I want you to meet MIkasa!" the boy pleaded. Eren just stared for a moment before taking one more deep breath, followed by a sigh.

"Fine."

Armin grinned and pulled the taller boy toward the table, pulling a chair up from an empty adjacent table and offering it to his guest. Eren took a seat when it was offered to him, not realizing how badly he needed to sit down with how many emotions he'd cycled through in the past hour or so. After taking a moment to calm himself, he turned to face the girl that he hadn't met yet.

"I'm Eren Jaeger," he offered, holding his hand out toward her. She simply looked him up and down before carefully offering her hand.

"Mikasa."

"No last name?"

"Not one that concerns you."

"Oh."

The table was silent, save for Armins almost silent slurping on his soup, before Mikasa cleared her throat.

"Armin informed me that you were joining population today. I take it you just got out of your briefing with the doctor?"

"Yes, why would Armin-"

"He wanted to get you a job so you could pay for things you'd want," Mikasa said in a very monotone voice, looking Eren directly in the eyes. "It's good for people who are returning from the dead to get back into normalcy."

"I never had a job, though," Eren muttered. What kind of shit was she talking about? Normalcy? Back from the dead? So much for the immersion of life. What kind of patient was she?

"It doesn't matter. Society here is run by jobs. They aren't full-time, and we offer very flexible hours. You don't really have a choice, though. I can tell you get angry quickly, and I assume the doctors gave you a troublesome room. You're going to need all the money you can get."

Eren stared at Mikasa, opening and closing his mouth like a fish as he tried to find the right words to say in response. Why was it that everyone around him seemed to know everything so well?

"And if I say no?"

Mikasa took a sip of her drink - presumably tea, from the smell Eren caught - before responding with a simple, "You won't."

Armin just stared at the two as they had this exchange. Once he was sure that they were done, he piped in. "Oh, you got a troublesome room? Do you need a place to crash?"

Eren gave an awkward laugh, immediately remembering Ackerman's remark about needing to crash with someone (and how he spoke as thought he wouldn't get a roommate) as he mused Armin's offer. Armin continued to try to convince him, not giving him enough silence to think, stringing together so many 'please's that it almost didn't sound like a word. Eren finally caved to the pleading, sighing.

Mikasa simply watched over the two. Once Armin was done rejoicing in his newfound roommate, she stood, picking her tea cup and saucer up as she did so. She started to wordlessly walk away, but turned to face the two after a moment.

"I have to go back to work. People will be coming for meals soon, and I need to prepare."

She paused, making direct contact with Eren before continuing, cauing Eren's heart to beat anxiously.

"I'll see you tomorrow at eight," she said, voice softer than before.

With that, she walked behind the counter and through a doorless doorway, leaving Eren to try to figure out what the fuck just happened while Armin slurped at his soup innocently.


	5. Roommates

"Here it is! I know it's not much, but feel free to make yourself at home!"

Armin strode into his apartment confidently, leaving Eren to just stand dumbly in the doorway. His apartment was so nice. It was small, and the bed was in the same area as his living room, but it was nice for what they were given to work with. It was decorated with nonspecific landscape paintings and knick knacks that he seemed to have either made himself or been given by someone with too much time on their hands.

It seemed really sentimental for a place that he'd have to leave behind eventually.

"Nice place," Eren commented, crossing the threshold and shutting the door behind him, leaving the windowless room to be illuminated by various strings of fairy lights and a lamp by the bed. He dropped his little bag of clothes from The White and some starting cash Armin slipped him on the way to the apartment by the front door and looked around curiously as he walked slowly toward the couch.

"Thanks! I know it looks like it's kind of haphazardly thrown together, but when I get some free time, I'm going to organize it more," Armin hummed, standing in a corner of the room Eren hadn't noticed while standing in the doorway. The corner was a little snack bar. It wasn't much - it had a mini fridge and a microwave on a table - but it had a nice feel to it. Eren pointed to it when Armin looked his way to gague his response, and the blond followed his motion before laughing a bit. "What about it?"

"You can get that? I thought you had to eat where that weird chick works," the brunette commented.

"Oh. It's a good behavior perk. I mean, it costs money of course. And restocking it costs money. But it's just like if you were still alive. Junk costs money," Armin responded, opening the fridge and squatting down to look in. "Do you like Coke, Sprite, or Root Beer?"

"Sprite," Eren answered. He was the unexpectedly met with Armin throwing a can of sprite at him. Eren yelped in shock and fell back as the can hit him in the chest - not because it hurt, but because he'd been trying to avoid it. "Jeez, maybe some warning next time?"

"Sorry!" the blond squeaked as he pulled a coke out of the fridge for himself, walking over to the couch as well now. "I thought you'd have better reflexes. Don't know why."

Armin opened his can of soda, and the iconic click and fizz of a fresh soda filled the room for a few moments before he brought the rim to his lips. Eren just kind of looked between the boy and his own can of soda, debating if he should open it now or give it some time to hopefully not explode on him upon opening.

The room was silent as Armin finished taking a drink of his soda, and he set it on a coaster on the small coffee table infront of the couch almost silently once he was finished. Eren continued to look at his own can of soda and opted to set it down on the floor next to the couch as it was unopened. He adjusted himself so he was sitting against the armrest of the sofa and pulled his knee half up to his chest as he got comfortable.

"So. You mentioned you got a bad room?" Armin mumbled, attempting to start a conversation.

"Yeah... it's really bad," the brunette sighed in response. He didn't even want to try to remember how bad it was to recap it to his friend. The smell of mold faintly came back to him, and he momentarily found himself about to dry heave.

"So you had a bad suicide, I take it?" came the boy's soft question. Eren was taken off guard by this - Armin didn't seem so forward to ask him about his suicide. And it's not that talking about it bothered him, it was the fact that he really didn't remember his own death or the events leading up to it. All he knew was the file Doctor Smith had read to him when he woke up.

"I mean, I guess," Eren hesitantly began. He looked down, tracing invisible patterns on the rough fabric of the couch as he held one of his knees up to his chest, trying his best to remember before he was, well, dead.

"You guess?" Armin blinked, and though Eren wasn't looking up, he could feel him looking at his moving hand.

"I only know what the doctor read to me from my file. I drank some cleaning supplies, I got shiftaced," he looked up at Armin and craned his neck, pointing to the white scars littering his throat. "I might've bled to death."

Armin's usually happy eyes grew soft with what appeared to be a mix of sympathy and sadness. "But you don't remember for sure?"

"No, I don't. Probably on account of my being drunk as hell when I died," Eren shrugged, resuming his hand motions against the sofa as he spoke. "I don't think I want to remember either, honestly."

"If it makes you feel better, most of us don't remember how we died," Armin offered. "It's a gift to most, but I know a few people who wish they had full memories and not just what the doctors told them."

There was a long silence, and to fill it, Armin took another chug of his open soda. When the silence persisted, the boy gave a halfhearted chuckle and stood, looking around for something. Eren only barely noted it, still racking his brain in an attempt to actually remember his death. He knew he didn't want to, but maybe the doctor wasn't giving him the full story...

"Oh, gosh. It's so late already?" Armin suddenly asked himself aloud. The brunette looked up to see Armin rushing to his bed, kneeling down and reaching underneath it. The blond looked up at him just in time to meet his eyes. "Do you need pajamas?"

"Pajamas?" Eren repeated, looking around for a clock. "What time is it?"

"Seven."

"Seven?! You expect me to go to sleep at seven? _Really_?"

"Well, no," the sound of shuffling clothes filled the gap between Armin's phrases as he multitaked. "You need time to shower and stuff. There's a shower house down the hall, and I usually hit it before it gets too late to avoid waiting in line."

"Shower house...?" Eren repeated.

"Yes, a shower house. You're starting to sound like a parrot."

"Sorry, I just... why the hell don't rooms come with a bathroom?"

Armin pulled out a tshirt and pajama pants and threw them at Eren. This time, Eren caught what was thrown at him. "Personal bathrooms are a luxury most of us can only hope for. Mikasa has one. She's the only one I know who does. Now, hurry up. I'll lead you to the showers and we can hurry and get washed."

Eren stared down and the ball of pajamas in his hands and silently made his way toward the bag he'd dropped at the front door to retrieve a spare pair of boxers supplied to him by the doctors in the White. Without any more exchange between them, the two made their way into the hallway, and Armin lead the way to the showers.

 

* * *

 

Eren stepped out of the shower, a towel around his waist as he peeked around the corners of the walls that separated stall from stall. Sure, this shower hall was male specific, but he just had something about other men seeing his junk. Once he was sure no one was there, he walked out and toward the locker he'd put his pajamas in.

"Who are you?" came a voice from behind him, and Eren almost jumped right out of his skin. He really thought he was alone. He turned around to meet eyes with whoever decided that a jumpscare was a good idea in a public shower.

He was a slightly taller but very, very pale boy, who couldn't have been older than 18. He had an undercut, with the fluff on the top of his head being bleach blond and the hair underneath being a deep brown. His eyes glanced over the boy's still clothed figure, trying to gague his muscular situation, before he realized he should probably respond before he seemed like he was gawking.

"I... I'm Eren Jaeger," he offered, his face practically the physical representation of a question mark mixed with pure embarassment. "I just joined population today."

"Oh, that explains it," the guy laughed. He turned his head, shouting seemingly to no one. "Do you hear that, Marco? This kid's a newbie."

There was a laugh from around a corner, and Eren felt as if the color was draining from his face more and more as the seconds ticked on.

"Anyway, Jaeger," the boy began, his face unreadable, "You might want to be careful who you get close to. Some of us aren't as nice as we seem."

"What does that mean?" Eren hesitantly asked, adrenaline starting to course through his veins. Something bad was probably going to happen - that, or he was suddenly susceptible to overreaction. Regardless, his hands instinctively balled into fists. "Is that a threat?"

"And if it is? What're you going to? Hurt me and get sent back to the beginning on day one? How pitiful would that be?" the boy laughed, cracking his knuckles by punching them against his opposite hand. Eren instinctively started to back away, but his bare back hit into something soft. He turned around and saw a boy even taller than the one threatening him, his face covered in freckles and a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

"Please, don't do this. You'll get sent back to the White!" Eren said hastily, looking around for any exit he could possibly take.

"Not likely. You see, I can totally pin it on you for starting it," the boy taunted. "So, unless you want to have a problem, I'd suggest you hand over your clothes.

"My... clothes?"

"Initiation, dumbass. Don't pay your dues, don't survive long in population. Now, do you want to spend your time in the infirmiry or the White, or do you want to hand over your clothes?"

Eren stared blankly at the boy with the undercut, momentarily forgetting about the friendly freckled giant behind him. He wanted his clothes? He was threatening him over clothes?

"Fine," Eren mumbled, opening his locker and handing the shirt, pants, and boxers to him. The boy looked through the rumbled up pile of laundry with a slightly disappointed face, but didn't say anything else. What he did do is walk forward and knee Eren in the gut before mumbling a hasty "lets go" to the boy behind the now doubled-over brunette. As Eren fell to his knees, the last thing he heard was the boys running out of the shower room.

Just then, Armin's shower down the way turned off, and he hurried out, towel barely around his waist as he did so. "Eren! Eren, I'm so sorry, I would've been out sooner, but there was soap in my hair and I didn't want it to crust and-"

"It's fine," Eren said, breath bated as he tried to gather himself. "I'm fine."

Eren slowly rose to his feet, gripping onto a padlock on a locker as support as he regained his stability. He turned to face Armin, who had opened his mouth to speak, but cut him off with a quick "Who the actual fuck were those people?"

Armin looked Eren up and down for a moment before sighing. "Jean and Marco. They're trouble kids who have been here for at least 6 months a piece. Apparently they're teetering on untreatable levels, so I wouldn't pay them much mind. They won't be in population much longer if this continues."

"What...?" Eren blinked. He suddenly remembered Doctor Smith's words: _If you start to become a threat to the emotional stability of other patients, you'll be brought back to your room here in our main halls._ These guys were definitely a threat to the emotional stability of others. Why weren't they gone yet?

"Come on, let's get you back to the room so you don't have to sit here in a towel all night," Armin mumbled, brushing off Eren's question as if there was nothing more to it than them going away, almost as if for a detention. Eren had no choice but to follow, so he did just that as Armin grabbed his clothes out of his locker and walked to the door of the shower room without even bothering to get dressed.


	6. Black

Eren was jolted awake by the shrill chirping of a cheap alarm. His arm - which was dangling over the edge of the couch he'd opted to sleep on - instinctively shot up. Instead of making a direct line from it's original limp position to covering his head with a pillow, however, it instead knocked into the can of Sprite he'd forgotten was on the floor. All of this lead to him unceremoniouly swearing and grabbing the wrist of the hand that had knocked into the can as he shot up into a sitting position.

On the flipside, Armin calmly yawned as he sat up in his bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with one balled fist as he reached his free hand out to his left to silence the alarm. Through sequential yawns, he managed to get out a soft "What's wrong?"

"I forgot about the fucking can of soda on the floor," Eren mumbled, blowing on his fingers to try to get the temporary throbbing to stop. "I didn't think that'd happen. You don't think my fingers are broken, do you?"

Armin stared tiredly at the visible side of Eren's head as he thought. "I doubt it. For someone who was a tough kid before he died, you're sure not having the same impression now."

To his left, Eren could hear Armin getting out of bed and probably making it. He tried to focus on the rustling of the sheets to ignore the pain in his fingers, but this was a fruitless effort as his hand yelled in pain. So, he decided that striking up some non injury related conversation would suffice. Anything to get Armin's train of thought off of how delicate he was seeming. "Why the hell are we getting up so early?"

"Work. Mikasa's expecting you," Armin simply responded, and he somehow managed to yawn again as he pulled the bin of clothes out of underneath his bed again. "You'll need a black shirt."

Eren almost didn't want to hear about clothing due to the experience he had last night. A momentary quell of anxiety hit him about seeing Jean and Marco again before he realized he'd likely be around witnesses. No one would try to hurt him if there were witnessses, right?

God, Armin was right. He really had softened up.

"I have red," he responded finally. Armin flipped a light on unexpectedly, probably to look through the clothes more efficiently, which caused Eren to groan and rub his temples to ward off an incoming headache. "I don't suppose theres a black shirt in that magical bin of clothes?"

"There is, but I need it for my job," the blond responded. "I'm sure you can pick something up on the way to the cafeteria. There's a resell shop."

"Resell?" Eren inquired. He hadn't thought that there would be anything worth value here. From what he'd seen in his (admittedly brief) time inside the actual society, nothing seemed worth the hastle of reselling.

"Are we going to do this again?" Armin sighed. After a moment, he turned to the brunette. "Listen. If you head out now, you'll be able to nab a shirt and change at the cafe. Which, actually, is what I'd recommend."

"Okay _dad_ ," Eren murmured, standing off the couch finally and groaning as he immediately stretched. He tried to ignore when his shoulder cracked uncomfortably - probably due to the stiff sleeping situation he had.

With no more exchange between the two, Eren quickly changed into a fresh shirt and pants, grabbed some extra cash, and walked out of the apartment.

 

* * *

 

"You'll be working the line," Mikasa said, her breath smooth and emotionless, almost as if she were a cyborg masquerading as a human on Halloween. "It works like those chain shops. What were they..."

"Chipotle? Subway? Shitty mall versions of Poncho Villa and various Chinese restaurants?" Eren piped up. He straightened out his shirt - it was black. He'd followed Armin's rather demanding advice to swing by the resell place and he was pleasantly surprised that they had an array of black clothes. The shirt was a bit snug, but he liked it. It accentuated his slightly muscular form.

"Yes. Those. Thank you," she confirmed. She turned to point to a station situated behind the line of rather unappetizing food they were standing at. "Back there is your sink and gloves. Wash before you put gloves on."

"Why? I'll have gloves on," he muttered, holding his hand up and wiggling his fingers to accentuate the fact that his skin wouldn't be coming in direct contact with the food.

"It's a backup system. If your glove rips, you don't want messy hands touching food."

"God, okay. Anything else I should know?" he groaned, almost interrupting Mikasa as she finished the last phrase of her response. "I almost feel like you're about to teach me how to eat with the shitty sporks you guys hand out."

"No, I am not. But, if you keep this up, I'll demote you to demeaning labour," she warned. He almost thought this was her attempt at a joke, but looking into her grey eyes proved she was nothing besides dead serious. Without another word from her, and before Eren could get one in edgewise, she walked away from the line of food and toward the door of the cafeteria. He assumed she was about to flip the sign to announce it's opening, and he groaned once more.

Because of this, he did the only thing he could do.

He turned around, washed his hands, and put on his cheap gloves that had to be worse quality than the gloves hair dye kits give you. They felt almost like Walmart bags, but only when you stretch them to the point they'll rip if you even breathe on them.

As he returned to the line, he couldn't quite shake the odd feeling he was getting. Not just from Mikasa, or from the weird argument he and Armin had earlier - the whole scheme seemed a bit off. And, what's more, he hadn't seen a single doctor or anyone even resembling an actual adult authority since earlier the previous day when Levi brought him to his room.

The smell faintly came back to him, and he tried to not show it as he watched potential customers pass by the windowed front to the cafeteria.

Nothing was right here. Or, on the flipside, maybe it was him who wasn't right.

He _was_ the new guy, after all.

As the bell chimed on the door to signify a customer had entered, he prepared himself.

Maybe he'd gain a sense of normalcy after being in population longer.


	7. Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, just so you all know, there's a pretty dark self harm joke in this chapter. Be careful.

It was dark. Well, it was in terms of 'natural' light. The faux city streets that were lined with almost hilariously off-brand shops were brigher than the actual sun as Eren remembered it.

He was wandering aimlessly. It was late, as obviously dictacted by the lack of what he assumed to be a simulated sun operated by doctors behind the scenes of the Population. He didn't know what he'd find, or if this quote unquote _city_ had any bad spots he wouldn't want to get into, but he would obviously find out one way or another if he wandered long enough.

Some buildings he passed hummed with the sound of excessive neon lights lining the windows and exterior. A few roared with life - namely a few clubs and a theater that caught his eye and almost tempted him to take a break from walking. He'd resisted ultimately, however. He wasn't sure how late it was, and judging by how early Armin's alarm went off, he wasn't sure how much later he could stay out without sacrificing his sleep that he'd decided he desparately needed.

Work was the main reason he was wandering around the city. It was only his first day, but it was almost unbearably tense with Mikasa watching him from her pseudo-hostess station at the front door. Her eyes seemed like they saw through him, which he really hoped they couldn't. All he could think about his entire shift was the feeling that he didn't belong here.

He wasn't sure when the last time they'd gotten a new member was. He was hoping it wasn't recent, seeing as the necessary requirements for entry into this gated community of sorts was tragic adolescent suicide. But, deep down, a part of him almost wished someone had been admitted after Armin but before him. He hoped that maybe he wasn't the only awkward soul wandering around population this late at night.

That sole hope made him realize.

He was actually the only person wandering the streets.

He stopped in his tracks and looked around at his surroundings. He was in a sort of restaurant-lined street, with a sketchy business here or there. He didn't take time to wonder about how any of these literal unfortunate souls had had the time, experience, or money to open their own mom and pop shops in a purgatorial city. No, he was more coming to a sudden realization.

Was the city actually less populated than he'd been let on it was?

It couldn't be. It was too big. They wouldn't overcompensate for the size of their population, would they? It seemed like it had been here for forever. They would have to have a large population of rehabilitating souls.

But, no. The streets were empty. A direct contrast to the thoughts now racing through Eren's head.

He did another look around. Among the sketchy mom and pop shops and the obvious fast food chains with non-copyrighted names (did copyright exist in puragoty?), he spotted what appeared to be a bar. He didn't even stop to think about how this population was entirely kids between 12 and 18, and he headed toward the wooden door to let himself into the sketchy structure.

Immediately upon opening the door, he was greeted by kids in dark clothing. Not just dark like " _work appropraite black clothing_ ", dark like " _we're getting ready to go to a Blood on the Dance Floor concert and make edgy comments about slitting our wrists to show how truly dead inside we really are despite our lack of experience in the field of self harm_ " dark. Dark like Hot Topic meeting Spencer's meeting Marilyn Manson dark.

Basically, the edge in the room was so sharp that the kids at the Blood on the Dance Floor concert would make jokes about cutting themselves with it.

Pretty much as soon as he opened the door, however, any commotion happening in the building he mistook for a bar stopped. The steriotypically emo kids turned and or looked up to almost meet eyes with the brunette who'd just walked in on their meeting. Almost like kids being caught making self harm jokes by their parents.

The joke was running dry in Eren's mind at this point, but he couldn't help himself. Besides, he'd killed himself partially with self harm. He was allowed to make these jokes. He practically lived them.

"Who are you?" one of the kids spoke up, breaking the brunette out of his self-justifying mental rut. In response, Eren simply stuttered, causing the kid who asked him his name in the first place to laugh. "Newbie?"

"Uh?" Eren mananged, unsure how to respond. The voice didn't match the jokes he'd been mentally making. The kid didn't sound like Hot Topic. The kid sounded like the band t-shirt section of a Kohls - trying to be edgy and relevant but not quite hitting the mark.

"I see your judgmental look," another kid commented.

"Seriously, who are you?" a third piped up.

Eren didn't know how to respond. So, he did what any slightly irrational teen who was just aimlessly wandering an unfamiliar city would do.

He stepped forward and joined the meeting for who knows what as if he belonged there.

And no one said anything.

At all.

A deafening silence fell over the room, as questions that had been asked were left hanging to be answered by a boy who couldn't care less about answering them. The silence was broken when the second kid to speak up turned to whisper to the first one.

And then it began again.

"Alright, newbie, we're going to need a name or we'll kindly escort you out of our meeting. We don't trust outsiders, and since you happened to just barge in unannounced, we're going to need proof you're not one of..." they trailed off.

Eren expected them to finish the sentence, but they never did. Instead, they gave a long pause, and then sighed.

"Fuck, fine. I'll introduce myself first so you don't feel so pressured. I'm Annie Leonhardt. Now, can I have your name, _please_?"

Annie, huh? Eren quite liked that name.

"Eren. Uh... Eren Jaeger," he finally managed.

"Maybe miracles really are real, because we just witnessed the mute talk," the third kid who'd spoken up muttered, earning an elbow to their side from the second kid who spoke up.

"Eren, huh? So you're _the_ newbie?" Annie muttered, a grin evident on her voice as she spoke. Eren was taken back by this - were new kids actually announced to everyone? He didn't have time to even register that he wanted to ask this before she continued. "Well, nice to meet you, Eren! I suppose we can trust you - I doubt you've really had any time to be infected by _their_ messages."

 _Their_ messages? What the hell was this girl going on about? He almost regretted not walking out of this when he had the chance.

"Uh, excuse me, but who are... _they_?" Eren asked, his voice shaking, the anxiety radiating off his voice more obvious than the fact he clearly didn't know what he was getting into. "And, if it's fine for me to ask... what _is_ this place?"

"Well! To answer your second question first, we're a sort of secret society. I guess you could call us like... the Illuminati of purgatory. Except, we're less vocal about our affiliation, and there are no rumors about us sending our richest white guys out to sacrifice babies and goats once a year," Annie chuckled, reaching up to pull her hood off her head to reveal a long blonde ponytail. She scratched at the side of her head as she cleared her throat to continue. "To answer your first, I'm afraid I can't give you that information until you make a commitment."

A silence fell over the room, giving Eren a moment to process everything Annie had just told him.

He took a moment, thinking over the whole secret society ordeal. It was then he took the time to actually acknowledge the number of people in the room - including himself, there were only seven. He began mentally checking off things that made them reak of a stereotypical secret society. Hoods all up? Check. Candles? Check. The leader is really witty? Well, he wasn't quite sure that was a universal secret society thing, but he assumed it was.

"Wait, wait," the kid who had been the second to speak up laughed after a second. "You can't be serious. This rando just walks in unannounced and uninvited and you decide you can just induct him in tonight? You know damn well that's a dumb idea!"

"Ymir, please calm down," Annie responded calmly. She took a moment to think over what Ymir had said, before looking Eren directly in the eyes. "I'm gonna have to ask you to leave. Think about my offer. Remember, you can get all the information you need if you just join."

As Annie finished speaking, Ymir and the third kid to speak up stood, as if on a silent cue, to escort him from the building. He followed them with no complaints, and waved to Ymir as she walked back into the building once he was outside. The other kid lingered for a second, hood pulled over their eyes and their demeanor awkward.

"Uh..." Eren laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. Without any words, the kid shoved a piece of paper toward him and hurried back inside, closing the door with a heavy slam that the brunette hadn't thought possible of it when he'd initially seen it. After he took a moment to realize what had just happened, he looked down at the paper in his hand.

_5 PM - McRonald's outside apartment sector C-2. Come alone._

He re-read the note a few times, and scratched his head again. He then took a look at the door once more before turning on his heel and heading back in the direction he'd began to wander from.

What in the actual hell had just happened?

 

* * *

 

By the time he got back to Armin's place, it was well passed one AM - more on it's way to two than anything. He opened the door slowly, hoping that it didn't have any faults that made it creak or groan when moved. He hadn't remembered anything, but he was sneaking home, so to speak. He didn't want to piss off his only 'friend' in this hell of sorts, especially when he wasn't at all in the right mindframe for fighting.

He couldn't stop replaying what happened just an hour or so ago. Had he actually walked in on a fucking secret society, or was it just an elaborate prank? They _did_ know he was new, so maybe it was an elaborate scheme to test him - see if he wants to break the rules, and get him sent back to the White.

He didn't put it passed that asshole Doctor Ackerman at this point. He gave him a borderline murderous apartment, why wouldn't he try to sabatoge him?

Eren quietly shut the door behind him and dropped any belongings he didn't want to carry to the couch by the door with the rest of his stuff, making sure to tuck the note he'd received into a pocket in the pair of pants he was still wearing. He didn't want Armin to find the note if he decided to rummage through shit that didn't belong to him before Eren woke up.

The brunette threw himself on the couch with a huff, immediately regretting his decision as he heard the bed behind the couch shift. The dull light of a cheap flashlight lit up the half of the room both sleeping apparatuses were in, and Eren could just barely make out what Armin was saying in what had to be the most sleep-ridden voice ever.

"The hell are you doing? It's..." a pause, presumably to check the time on his god forsaken alarm clock "1:49 AM."

"Got some grub before heading back," he lied, curling up on his side and pulling the scratchy blanket Armin had neatly folded over himself. "Did some exploring. Sorry for waking you."

There was a moment of silence, and then a huff of forced belief. The light clicked off, and the bed creaked once again. Before long, Eren could hear soft snoring.

Soon after, he too was drifting off, leaving his subconscious to worry about what would transpire after his shift in the morning as his tired eyes shut and a rush of melatonin lulled his tired body to sleep.


End file.
